Subject 42
by Goozerbug
Summary: Eve Hilliard was never "born". Grown in a lab as a part of the Weapon X Program, she has been experimented on her entire life. She's strong, intelligent, and she doesn't age like normal humans. When she manages to escape , she makes it her goal in life to hunt down the people who made her what she is. She is an outcast in society, different, uncontrollable, and dangerous.
1. Chapter 1

_I was running. Trees flew past me in a blur, their branches stinging my face and skin. The thin material of the hospital gown that I wore whipped around me and provided little protection for my skin, __but I barely felt the pain._

_"Keep running," I thought to myself over and over again. "Just keep running."_

_The harsh, baying call of hounds, sounded out through the night air, almost drowning out the sound of men shouting. Fear clutched at my heart. I should have had more time before they set the dogs out after me. This wasn't going the way I had hoped and I would be lucky to make it out alive, but I couldn't give up. I just had to keep running. _

_Though, suddenly, I had to stop; grinding my heels into the earth and stopping just an inch from where the ground fell away into a sheer cliff. __ Peering over the edge revealed a fifty-foot drop to the ground below._

_My mind was racing, delusional with fear 'What the hell do I do now?' I kept repeating over and over in my mind. I couldn't go back, they'd kill me if I was lucky. If not, they would torture me until my mind was broken._

_Suddenly, a loud growl ripped through the air. I whirled around just as three large hounds burst through the trees. They stopped when they saw me, slowly fanning out, surrounding me and cutting off any possible routes of escape, their lips were curled back to reveal their long, razor sharp teeth. There was an intelligence in their eyes that was unlike anything that would be seen in a normal dog, but then again they weren't normal dogs. They were as genetically modified as I was, making them as far from normal as possible and making them much more dangerous. Without thinking, I took a step back and my heel slipped off the ledge. I managed to pull myself back before I fell. Then, one of the hounds let out a fierce snarl and leaped towards me. I looked back behind me at the cliff, then back at the dog who was mere seconds from reaching me. Then with a scream, I turned around and jumped into the abyss._

My eyes flew open and I bolted upright, my chest heaving. For just a moment I didn't recognize the world around me, my mind was still in the forest, feeling the air rushing across my body, the furious echoes of the howls of dogs still ringing in my ears. Then I blinked, and I was back in the present again in the small, grimy room that I called 'home'. A small ray of light shined in through the only window in the room, dust swirling through it in a sort of hypnotic dance. The place itself resided in an old apartment building, that I had found a few years back. The place had been abandoned for years, condemned by the city as being 'unsafe' and all but forgotten about.

The room I was in was one of the only rooms in the building that still had an intact window, most of them had been shattered and broken by various people and natural events. The room itself was small, only about twenty square feet and probably wasn't even an apartment, more like a storage closet. The walls of the room were covered in old, floral wallpaper that, at one point, had been white, but was long since yellowed and peeling, spots of mold dotting its surface. The floor was wooden and heavily warped from water damage. When it rained, the ceiling liked to leak. A few random buckets were scattered across the small floor underneath the worst of the places that liked to drip. And there was an old, ratty mattress shoved into one of the corners of the room on which I was currently sitting.

I let out a sigh and put my head in my hands. Ever since the night when I had escaped RCRX (The Research Center for Reformed Xenogenetics), my dreams had been plagued with nightmares, mostly reliving that horrible night. I glanced up at the wall across from me which was covered with about fifteen names, each belonging to a different scientist from the research facility, and each one written in an angry hand with large black letters. Most of the names had a large slash over them that sliced through the wallpaper and revealed the wooden wall underneath. Seeing the names gave me some amount of comfort. I had control over those people who's names were written there. A control that I had never had at RCRX.

There were only three names left on the wall that hadn't been slashed yet. I stood up and walked over to the wall, tracing my fingers lightly across one of the names that read 'Salvia Mitchells' imagining what it would look like when it was slashed through. My lip curled as I thought about the owner of the name but, resisting the urge to do anything, I sharply turned away and crossed over to the window.

Outside, the city stretched for miles, tall skyscrapers dominated much of the horizon though the area where I lived looked like a ghost town. The road below was dotted with potholes and large cracks through its surface. Most of the buildings around the area were in heavy disrepair and a good majority of them were boarded up. Not many people came around, and the city didn't bother trying to fix the area up. I didn't mind it, though. I actually preferred the solitude.

I sighed again and leaned forward to press my forehead against the glass, trying to chase away the last ghosts of the nightmare from my memory. I was supposed to meet with someone later that day, someone who had promised me information that I needed but I still had several hours left before then and I wasn't sure what I would do to pass the time until then.

An answer came in the form of a loud shout that broke the morning silence. Across the street, in an alleyway between two buildings, two large men had cornered a much smaller guy. But it wasn't the people who had caught my eye, it was the object that one of them clutched in his hand.

One of the two larger men held a formidable knife that he was currently jabbing threateningly at the smaller guy that he and his lackey had cornered. The blade itself was about 5 inches long and came to a wicked point with a serrated edge on top. The handle, or at least what could be seen of it through thug's beefy hand, was black and sleek.

I couldn't help but smile when I saw it. I had been looking for a nice knife for quite awhile and one had just graciously fallen into my lap. Well, not really, there was a person holding that knife for now, but he wouldn't be holding it for much longer.

I quickly slid open the window jumped out of it. The room I lived in was on the third story but it didn't matter for me. The only thing I got out of the life I spent as a human lab rat, was the enhanced body I lived in. My muscles and bones were stronger than a bodybuilder's, my eyes were as sharp as a falcon's, my sense of smell was as keen as a blood hound's, and my body was able to heal almost 10 times faster than a normal human. The only thing that wasn't changed or enhanced was my hearing, which was only as good as the average human.

My body sliced through the air and I hit the ground, tucking into a roll, my enhanced muscles and bones easily absorbing the force. I straightened up, casually brushed off my shirt and crossed over to the three people.

None of them had noticed as I approach and, as I got closer, I could start to hear what was being said.

"You better hand over it now before I split you open." The guy holding the knife said. He talked with a slight slur as if he was drunk.

"Please, I don't know what you're talking about," said the smaller guy, the unmistakable quiver of fear in his voice.

I lightly tapped the guy holding the knife on the shoulder. Both of the men were largely built and were about a head taller than I was. Both him and the guy he was with turned around sharply, glaring down at me with a sneer. They were both equally ugly and looked similar enough to be brothers. Both of them had squinty eyes, pig-like noses, and melon-shaped heads. The only definitive difference between the guy that held the knife and the other guy was the color of their hair. The bigger of the two, (and the one with the knife) had black hair, and the other guy had brown. The smell wafting from the two of them was so strong, it was making my stomach churn.

"What the hell do you want?" The guy with the knife sneered, his face curling up to an even uglier expression.

He didn't seem to be the brightest bulb in the box, so I decided to have a little fun with him. "Your knife," I said flatly.

His face twisted. "What did you say?"

"I said I want your knife."

They stared at me so I sighed and crossed my arms. "Alright, here's how this is going to work. You're going to give me your knife and walk away, or I'm going to beat your ass up and take the knife from you."

The bigger guy began to laugh. "Yeah, I think you got it wrong little girlie," that came from the slightly smaller guy. He looked me up and down, his eyes straying a little too long on my chest, a small smile creeping onto his face. "I think we're going to have some fun with you," he said, taking a step forward.

I shrugged, dropping my arms to my sides again. "Your choice," I said before I turned and delivered a powerful kick to the smaller guy's gut. The kick sent him flying backward into the wall, his head slamming into the bricks with a crack. He slumped to the ground, motionless.

The second guy, who had watched this, dumbfounded, whirled on me. "You bitch!" He snarled.

He lunged at me, slashing wildly with his knife. There was no purpose or precision in his movements and I had no problem simply stepping aside to avoid him as he barreled past me.

"You know, that was really impressive," I said, smiling slightly at him as he whirled around again. "I think you might have actually gotten a hair there."

"Shut the hell up!" He yelled and lunged again.

He tried to slash at my face but instead of avoiding him that time, I grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand closer to examine the knife that was grasped in it closely. It was just as impressive as it had looked from the window, if not more.

"This is a nice knife," I said.

Tried to pull his wrist free from my grip, his face twisting into confusion when it didn't budge. He quickly changed tactics, swinging his other hand around to deliver a punch but I easily grabbed his fist with my other hand. He tried to pull away again but his strength was like a toddler's compared to mine. In an instant, all traces of anger left his face, replaced instead by confusion and fear

"What the hell are you?"

Instead of answering, I smirked at him and then released his knife hand, sharply twisting the other one. He spun with the twist, arching up through the air, and landing hard on his back. He lay gasping like a fish out of water, all the air having been knocked from his lungs. I slowly walked over and crouched down by his head, placing my face inches from his. Even as he was struggling to get his breath back, he flinched away from me.

"Next time a girl asks you nicely for something," I said, "I suggest you give it to her." And with that, I delivered a hard punch to his face and he went limp. For a second I thought I might have punched him hard enough to kill him but then I saw that his chest was still rising and falling with his breath.

I stood back up, grabbed the knife from his limp fingers, and inspected it closely. It was nice and heavy, made of stainless steel. I flipped it closed and slid it into the waste of my pants. "Thanks," I said down to the unconscious thug before I kicked him in the groin.

Just as I turned to leave I heard a soft gasp. The guy that the two thugs had cornered was still standing against the wall, it didn't look like he had even moved an inch. He stared at me, eyes wide. I knew what he must have been seeing. A strange girl, with white hair, pulled into a ponytail and sharp green eyes who had just knocked out two men twice her size. My hair hadn't always been white. Once, many years ago, it had been red, though eventually, the time and experiments I was put through over my life had turned it white as snow.

But instead of looking at me with the usual fear that people regarded me with, he stared at me with... amazement. He was maybe in his early twenties with brown eyes and had short brown hair. He actually looked rather attractive once I actually got a good look at him.

"Tha-thanks," he finally said.

I looked at him carefully for a moment or two more before turning and walking away without a word.


	2. Chapter 2

I made sure to cross around to the back of the old apartment building so no one would see me go in, quickly climbing back to my room. The corners of my mouth were pulled up ever so slightly at the bounty I had just obtained for free.

When the two thugs regained consciousness, I was sure they wouldn't call the police I was sure of it. What would they tell them anyways? A couple of big guys like them getting their asses kicked by a girl as they had been trying to rob some guy? No, they wouldn't say anything.

When I was back in my room I went over to close the window again.

Outside, the thin guy from the alley stood in the middle of the street, watching me. The other two were still motionless lumps on the ground. I looked at him for a moment considering what to do with him. He knew where I lived which was information I didn't want anyone to have. I didn't want to kill him, I didn't like killing people who didn't deserve it. I didn't care about the bodies I left behind of the people on my list. I even wanted people to see them, I wanted them to know I was coming for them. Civilians, however, were a different matter. Most of them had done nothing wrong to me so I had no reason to go after them. In any case, I knew from the way he looked at me, a mixture of awe, curiosity and a little bit of fear, that he wasn't going to cause me any trouble. He had seen only a glimpse of my dangerous side. That alone would be enough to make him to keep his distance.

So instead, I simply scowled at him, flipped him off, and turned away.

• • • • • •

Ten hours later

The sun had just started to set when I finally left. Before then, I had changed into the clothes I wore when I worked - a black tank top, black cargo boots that came up past my ankle, and a pair of black leather pants. I also wore a hood and mask that, when pulled up, would cover the lower half of my face. Although, at the moment, they hung around my neck like a scarf. Leather worked well for what I needed. The pair I wore was soft and stretched any way I needed it to without hindering my movements and it settled on me like a second skin. Just before I left I pulled up my hood but left my mask down. My white hair stood out and drew attention to me, attention I did not want. The black hood covered it in a way that kept it from sight and avoided people's eyes from lingering on me too long. The mask was to keep my face hidden but it too, could draw attention and was not really necessary to use while traveling through the city.

The farther into town I walked, the more people there were around me. I curled my lip as a particularly obnoxious group of girls passed by, screeching with laughter.

I moved quickly and quietly, keeping my head down, making sure not to draw any attention to myself until I reached my destination.

A large neon martini glass adorned a grubby looking building. Outside, a long line of people led down the street from a door where a large muscular man in black clothes stood. Muffled music thrummed through the otherwise silent night.

I walked up to the front entrance of the building, ignoring the angry shouts from the people what were waiting in line.

Before I could walk inside, the bouncer held out a hand in front of me.

"Woah, woah, woah. Where do you think you're going?" He said in a deep, rough voice.

"In," I told him and tried to move past him but he stopped me, again. I ground my teeth trying to keep my frustration controlled. I needed the information that was promised to me within the building and taking out frustration on employees wouldn't leave a very good impression.

"No one gets in unless I say so," he said.

I took a step back. "Is that so? Well, then I suggest you say so. I'm supposed to meet with your boss tonight."

"What?"

"Do I really have to repeat myself? Oh, fine." I paused. "I'm..." I pointed to myself. "Going..." I mimed walking with my fingers. "Inside..." I pointed to the door.

A few people waiting in line chuckled which seemed to make the bouncer angry. "No, you're not. I ain't heard nothing about anyone meeting with Mr. Rudabock tonight, and I'm not letting you weasel your way in."

I sighed. "You seem to be having trouble grasping this concept. Hmm... let me reword it," I cleared my throat. "If you don't let me inside, you're not going to like what's going to happen."

His eyes clouded with anger. "Are you threatening me?"

I forced a smiled. "Absolutely."

Suddenly someone waiting in line yelled out in a thick accent. "Just let her in you bastard!"

"One more peep out of you and you're gone," the bouncer shouted into the crowd. The people waiting in line grumbled but no one else spoke out.

The bouncer turned back to me and crossed his arms. "As for you, I suggest you leave, now."

"No can do," I said.

He uncrossed his arms and cracked his knuckles. "Last chance."

I laughed at him. "Is that supposed to intimidate me?"

"Robert!" A sharp voice cut through the air. The bouncer immediately dropped his hands and took a step back.

Standing in the doorway to the club was a woman with bright-green spiky hair. She wore six-inch black heels, tight black jeans that cut off at her calves, and a deep red top that looked more like a sports bra than a shirt. Her ears were adorned with a multitude of piercings. On her neck was a large, twisting tattoo of a dragon. If looks could kill, the bouncer she was glaring at, would be dead a thousand times over.

"What have you been told about starting fights?" She snapped.

The bouncer, Robert apparently, gave a noncommittal grunt.

"Your job is to stand here and control who comes in. Not to start fights with people. If you decide to 'forget' that again," her voice dripped with sarcasm when she said 'forget', "you won't have a job anymore. Is that clear?"

Robert gave a short, sharp nod before the girl turned her attention to me.

"Sorry about that. Come on inside, he's waiting for you."

She turned around and cleared her throat loudly. Robert stepped forward and opened the door and the girl walked briskly inside. I followed after her feeling the glare of Robert's eyes on me as I passed him.

As I passed Robert, I leaned in and said in a soft voice that no one but him could hear, "Oh and just for the record, I so could have kicked your ass."

The lighting inside was dim, lit only by the flashing lights that were scattered around the edges of the room. Music played deafeningly loud and I could feel the bass pounding in my chest.

The place was packed with people, jumping and bouncing to the music.

Almost instantly, my senses were overwhelmed with information. My nose was assaulted with the strong smell of alcohol mixed with the smell of unwashed humans and vomit. My eyes picked up every movement, and in a room full of dancing people, dizziness started to wash over me. For once in my life, I was glad that my hearing was no better than a normal person.

Before I became completely overwhelmed, I stopped walking and closed my eyes tightly, taking in a few slow, deep breaths, trying to control the environment around me. When I opened my eyes again I managed to tune out most of the information that my senses were picking up, until everything around me wasn't as intense. It took a lot of effort out of me to keep it like that, but quite a bit of practice over the years made it almost like second nature to me.

To my left, the green-haired girl leaned against the bar, watching me intently.

"Well, that was interesting," she said.

For some reason, her comment irritated me. "Oh, so I'm a walking attraction now am I? Just here to 'entertain you'?" I said.

Well, at least that's what I said in my mind. Out loud I said, "You said he was waiting for me?"

She nodded casually, the smirk never leaving her face. "Yeah he is, but it isn't like we don't have all night. Do you want anything? A drink maybe? It's on the house, his orders."

"Just take me to him," I snapped at her.

It wasn't like alcohol did anything for me anyway. Yet another side effect of being the glorious abomination that was me. I couldn't get drunk.

The green-haired girl simply shrugged. "Alright, alright. This way."

She pushed off from the bar, gave me a wink as she passed, and easily slipped into the crowd.

I pushed my way through the crowd after her, shuddering as countless hot, sweaty bodies pushed against me. The green-haired girl, however, seemed to move through the crowd with ease.

Suddenly a hand grabbed my arm from behind and turned me around. A young guy, probably just into college, stood swaying on his feet as he held onto my wrist. "Hey gorgeous," he slurred.

I put on a false smile and took a step towards him. His eyes lit up. I put my hands on his shoulders and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"I suggest you walk away before I break your nose," I whispered before I stepped back.

He laughed like he had just been told a joke. "Oh come on baby, you know you want to." He reached out a hand to grab me again.

Instinctively, I swatted his hand away and sent a powerful punch straight to his face. He flew back into the crowd, a spray of blood gushing from his nose.

For a moment he didn't move, and I wondered if I might have killed him. The punch to his face wasn't anywhere near my full strength but it doesn't take much force to kill a normal human. But then he stirred sitting up with a read stream running from his nose to his chin.

"What the hell?" He yelled.

"I warned you," I said with a shrug.

Quite a few people around us had stopped dancing to watch, I could feel their stares burning into my skin.

Someone else grabbed my arm from behind and I whirled around but it was only the green-haired girl.

"Come on." She said it in an even voice but the large smile on her face told that she had enjoyed the little confrontation I had just had.

I expected her to say something about it. Instead, she simply turned and started pulling me through the crowd until we reached a curtained doorway at the back of the room.

A dark-skinned, heavily muscled bouncer stood beside the curtain. He nodded to the girl, gave me a suspicious glance, and pushed aside the curtain to let us in.

The hallway on the other side was empty, black, and ended in a single door. Dim lights lined the ceiling and cast everything in an eerie, shadow-filled light.

"Before I let you in, I have to take your weapons." The green-haired girl said.

I wasn't expecting that. "Who says I'm armed?"

She raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

I considered lying to her but eventually I gave in. "Oh all right."

I knelt down and removed my gun from the cuff of my boot. Then I straighten and handed it, rather reluctantly, to her.

She took the gun from me but didn't drop her hand. "And the knife at your belt?"

"Fine," I grumbled. I lifted my shirt and grabbed my new knife from my belt. I hesitated before giving it to her. Without it, I would be defenseless. Well, no that wasn't true, my entire body was technically a weapon. I didn't need knives or guns to kill but I still enjoyed using them. There's nothing quite like the grace and precision of the damage a well-used knife could deal.

I handed it to her, watching with sadness as the knife, that I had just gotten earlier that day, was taken away from my possession.

"Thank you," she said. "You can go right on in."

I gave one last longing glance at my weapons before I turned to the door "Don't mess up my knife. I just got it."

She laughed before I walked into the room.

The recurring theme around the place seemed to be black, and the room I had just walked into was no exception. A small bar with a lone bartender (dressed in black of course) dominated the corner of the room to my left. A large flat-screen television dominated the wall across from me and a large, black, leather recliner sat in front of it. To the right of the recliner, pushed up against the wall, was a black sofa.

The bartender looked up from his task of wiping the counter down. He made eye contact with me and cleared his throat loudly before returning to his work.

The large leather recliner shifted slightly and a man stood up from it. Well, sort of. The person that turned around was indeed a male, but several years from being a man. He looked like he was about twelve years old. He had short blonde hair and blue eyes. On top of that, he wore a business suit that looked like something someone three times his age would wear.

The kid smiled. "You must be Eve," he said.

"Uh-huh, and you are...?"

"Carl Rudabock."

"You're Carl Rudabock?" I asked unable to keep the surprise from my voice.

"That is indeed me."

I couldn't hold in a laugh. It had to be some sort of joke. There was no way that he was the owner of the club and the informant I was to meet.

The warm smile he had been wearing since he first saw me quickly fell. "Is something funny?"

"No it's just, you're joking, right? Your dad's not hiding around here somewhere, is he?"

Carl's jaw clenched. "Look, I have information that I assume you want. So we can either play this little 'game' of yours or we can actually get to what this meeting is for."

I had to hand it to the kid, he was good. Most people would have taken a swing at me by now. To be honest, though I didn't really care if Carl had turned out to be a talking dog as long as I got the information I wanted. I walked over and sat down on the couch. "All right then ' ', let's get down to business."

He remained standing, but he leaned up against the arm of the recliner. For a while, he just studied me. "You know, you're pretty famous around here. I've heard a lot about you," he finally said.

"Really? And what do they say about me?"

"Quite a bit, actually. When someone goes out on a murderous rampage word tends to get around."

I raised my eyebrows. "Murderous rampage you say? That's a bit extravagant."

"Then what would you call what you have been doing?"

I shrugged and leaned back, crossing my legs and stretching out my arms across the back of the couch. "I'm simply ridding the world of people who have no right to live."

He laughed which was a little unnerving. The guy talked like he was a good deal older than he looked and the laugh made him look like a kid. "That's good. I quite like that."

"About this information you claim to have..." I prompted him, not much feeling in the mood for idle chit chat.

"Right, right," he said, his face becoming serious. "I understand that you are looking for someone called Selvia Mitchell?"

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"Well, what if I told you that I know where she is?"

I sighed and leaned forward resting my elbows on my knees. "Look kid, stop beating this around the bush. If you have information to tell me, tell me it. I have a long night ahead of me."

Carl crossed his arms and leaned back, a small grin on his face. "Selvia Mitchell is currently staying in her family's mansion on Hase Street. But she's only there tonight, come morning she's leaving the country."

So she was trying to escape. I had what I wanted so I stood up and started for the door. As I passed Carl I ruffled his hair. "Thanks, kid," I said.

"Hold on," Carl said just as I reached the door.

I stopped, my hand hovering just above the doorknob.

"You didn't think I was going to give you information for free, did you?"

I clenched my hand into a fist before lowering it back down to my side and turning around.

Carl hadn't moved from where he was by the chair. His face remained neutral but his eyes seemed to be filled with a predatory hunger.

I had to fight to keep my voice even as I responded. "Alright then, what do you want in return?"

"I want you to work for me."

I laughed. "Not a chance kid."

Carl smiled. "Oh, but you don't have a choice. You see..." He put his hands in his pockets and walked slowly to the bar. The bartender immediately set out two glasses , put a few pieces of ice in each, and then poured an amber-colored liquid into them I could smell the distinct sent of alcohol wafting up from the glasses. When he was finished, Carl grabbed the glasses and walked towards me. "... I've had my eye on you for quite some time now. I could use someone like you, Eve. And I assure you," he held one of the glasses out to me, "I'll make it worth your while."

Something wasn't right, I could feel it. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. I had the strong urge to run but I pushed the feeling down and slowly took the glass from Carl. His smile widened.

"You know, it's funny." I pretended to study the drink carefully, swirling the glass around so that the ice chimed against the edges.

"What is?" Carl asked.

"You claim to know so much about me, and yet..." I looked him straight in the eye. "... you know nothing about me at all."

I held the glass out at arm's length and let it drop to the floor. It landed with a loud crash of shattering glass.

Carl watched the glass's progression to the floor. "Are you refusing my offer then?"

"I'm afraid so."

He sighed. "I had really hoped it wouldn't have come to this."

In the blink of an eye, Carl had pulled a gun from somewhere in his suit and had pointed it at my face. It happened so fast that I didn't have any time to react.

He no longer looked like a child. While his face and physical appearance were that of a twelve-year-old, but the malice that filled his eyes was anything but.

"Now then, let's try that again, shall we? You will start working for me, or I will kill you right now. It's your choice."

I didn't look at the gun, I didn't even care that it was there. I kept my eyes on Carl. "Kid, you really don't get it, do you?" I said.

"Oh really? And what exactly don't I get?"

"Me," I said and then I moved.

I instantly dropped into a crouch and kicked out at Carl's kneecaps. He let out a shout of surprise and went down. I jumped away and made a grab for the door. A defining boom shot through the air and the wood of the door frame exploded in a shower of wood fragments. Carl had recovered quickly, he was back on his feet and firing.

I twisted the doorknob and ran into the hallway just as Carl fired off another shot. I didn't risk glancing behind me.

I ran through the curtain and burst back into the main room of the club. Behind me, Carl shouted something that I didn't quite catch. I plunged into the throng of dancers, shoving people aside that didn't move out of my way. My heartbeat pounded in my ears.

Just as I made it out of the thickest mass of people someone grabbed my arm from behind. I whirled around, my fist already moving to punch whoever had grabbed me. I didn't care who it might be, whoever they were, were keeping me from escaping and I didn't have any patience left. But, to my surprise, my fist never made contact. Instead, someone grabbed my hand, stopping its path. It was the green-haired girl.

I was so shocked I didn't know how to react. No one had ever been able to stop one of my punches before. Who the hell was this girl?

"Seems like you've caused quite a mess," she said calmly, snapping me out of my confused daze. She looked over her shoulder to where the bouncer that had been stationed by the curtained hallway, was pushing his way through the crowd. His large size seemed to be a disadvantage for him. Where I had been able to slip more easily through the crowd, he had to shove his way through it.

The green-haired girl turned back to me. "Here, you'll probably be needing these."

She held out her hands to me, in which she held both the gun and the knife that she had taken from me earlier.

"Aren't you supposed to be on their side?" I asked.

She shrugged but didn't say anything.

"What's your name?"

"Lucy. Now are you going to take these or not?"

I wanted to say something else, ask her why she was trying to help me, but at that moment the bouncer had burst out of the crowd.

"Thank," I told her quickly, grabbing my weapons from her and running for the door. Even with all the sound in the room, I heard Lucy laugh to herself.

I slammed the front door open with my shoulder and skidded to a stop.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

Standing in the middle of my way was Robert, the bouncer that I had argued with at the start of the night. He stood with his arms crossed and his feet planted slightly apart. His large size made him look like an immovable wall of muscle.

"Going somewhere?" He asked with a small grin.

Behind me, through the door, I could hear the sound of running footsteps. I had maybe ten seconds before anyone who was chasing me came through the door.

"I really don't have time for this," I said.

"Well that's too ba-" He started to say but I had already started to move. I rammed into him, putting all of my strength into the impact. The 'immovable wall of muscle' went flying backward with the sound of crunching bones.

The door to the club burst open, my ten seconds were up. I didn't even look to see who had come through the door I ran for it. I ran straight for the road across from the club.

"You, stop!" Someone yelled.

I heard the sharp click of a gun being cocked a second before the deafening boom. The asphalt next to me exploded in a shower of rubble that flew up and stung my face.

Despite the danger I was in, I was smiling. I hadn't felt this much excitement in a very long time. Another gunshot rang out and something hot grazed my ear.

"Amateurs," I muttered. With my next stride, I dug my heel into the ground and pivoted on the spot, drawing my gun in a flash. With my enhanced eyesight, I had no trouble seeing my target even though I was already almost a block away. What I saw, though, caught me off guard.

Instead of one of the bouncers, there, standing at the entrance of the club with a gun pointed straight at my face, was Carl himself. In any other situation, seeing a child pointing a gun at me might have seemed almost comical, but not now. I didn't know what exactly Carl was, but one thing I knew for sure was that he was no child.

I quickly regained myself, aimed, and fired. Everything seemed to start moving in slow motion then. My mind faintly registered the bullet leaving the gun in a flash of light but my full attention stayed on Carl. Instead of watching my gun, he was staring straight at me like I had done with him just before. An eerie smile crept across his face that sent chills down my spine. He lowered his arm just as my bullet hit him.

The world returned to normal speed. Carl fell backward in a spray of blood. He wasn't dead, he couldn't be. I had hit his shoulder.

Then someone screamed. Several people rushed to Carl's side. To them, a kid had just been shot right in front of their eyes.

For some reason, I couldn't seem to move. The look on Carl's face just before he had gone down had sparked something in me, something I had hoped I would never feel again. Fear.

The gun fell from my hand and clattered across the pavement. My hands began to shake and I fell to my knees. Memories flashed through my mind. The feel of cold metal against my back. Doctors in white lab coats swarming over me, and Him. He stood there with the same smile. The same hungry look that Carl had.

I pressed my hands against my ears trying to block them out, trying to suppress the fear. I didn't want to remember. I didn't want to be back at that place.

Suddenly something touched my shoulder. "Miss? Miss, are you alright?"

It brought me back to reality, the memories started to fade away, back into the deep recesses of my mind. I blinked slowly and looked around. A young woman was crouched down in front of me, concern and worry etched across her face.

"Are you alright?" She asked again.

I took a deep, slow breath and closed my eyes. When I opened them again the woman was still there. Behind her, a young guy stood awkwardly.

"Do you need me to call someone?" The woman asked softly. She reached out a hand to touch my shoulder but I quickly stood up and took a step away from her.

"I'm fine," I said.

Back at the entrance to the club, a large group of people had formed around where Carl lay. Sirens blared in the distance.

The woman stood up. "Are you sure? We can call you an ambulance or-" she took a step forward and reached out a hand again like she wanted to touch me.

That was it. I couldn't take it anymore. I turned around and ran.

"Hey, wait a second!" The woman yelled but I ignored her.


	3. Chapter 3

_Date: June 4, 1998. Age: 7_

I stared up at the smooth, plain‐white expanse of the ceiling in my room, the same room I had known my entire life. It was small. Small and boring. Everything in it was white. The walls, the linoleum tiled floor, the bed, the small desk across from me. Even the tiny bathroom that connected to the room was white and colorless. I had lost count as to the number of times I had begged Raymond to let me have something, anything colorful but he always refused, each time saying something along the lines of 'You do not need color in your room. A lab rat does not need color to properly run tests and neither do you.'

One time, during one of the rare moments I was allowed to spend time outside, I had found a dandelion and had managed to sneak it inside. It didn't take long for Raymond to find out about it. He kept me locked in my room for two weeks after that.

I glanced over to the door to my room where the chair that was usually pushed under my desk was shoved under the doorknob. The door itself could only be locked from the outside, and barricading it was the only way I could keep it closed from my side. Earlier, two lab assistants had come to try and grab me for whatever sort of testing and experimentation that was planned for me. Neither of them had looked very old, probably just out of college and I didn't recognize either of them. When they opened the door to my room, they had both regarded me with apt curiosity. To make a long story short, they did not leave the room with me. Instead, they left empty handed, one with a broken collarbone and the other with a bite to his hand. Did you know that it doesn't take much force at all to break a collarbone? I hadn't even meant to do it, the guy had tried to pick me up and when I tried to get free, it just sort of happened.

I knew Raymond was going to be mad at me for what I had done and would punish me but I didn't care. Anything was better than testing, even whatever sort of punishment I might receive.

Suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door. I froze and turned my head. Raymond must have already heard about what I had done and sent a couple of guards to grab me and take me by force instead. There would be no fighting my way out of it, this time, it was over. Even though I knew that there was nothing I could do to keep them from taking me, I wasn't going to make it easy for them. If they wanted me, they would have to break the door down themselves.

I stayed on my bed and simply turned over so that my back was facing the door. There was another soft knock and then a voice spoke out. "Can you open the door please, Eve?"

I sat up, it was George's voice that had called through the door, not Raymond or any guard, but George. He was one of the only people who was ever kind to me, and he was the exact opposite of Raymond. George always seemed to care about me, he was warm and friendly, and he treated me like I was an actual person.

I hesitated for a while, biting my lip as I tried to decide what to do. George would never do anything to hurt me but I knew that he was here to take me to testing today anyways. After a while, though, I reluctantly slid off of my bed, walked over to pull the chair out from under the door and pull the door open.

As soon as he saw me, George smiled slightly. He was tall and heavily built and his skin was a rich, chocolate brown. His eyes were always kind and his hair was short, only a layer over his scalp and was just starting to turn white near his ears.

George knelt down in front of me so that his face was level with mine. There was no anger in his eyes. "So, I heard you broke someone's collarbone," he said, furrowing his brow slightly.

I hung my head, looking down at my feet, which were bare on the cold floor.

"Eve," George spoke again, drawing my attention to look back up at him. "Why did you do that?" He looked at me with an expression of...sadness.

Seeing him look at me like that, was just too much. Tears began to well up in my eyes and made everything look blurry. "I hate testing," I said my voice catching in my throat as I tried to keep from crying. "I hate everything they do to me."

George flinched at the word 'they' though the next thing I knew, he had pulled me into a hug. "I know, sweetie, I know you do," he said squeezing me tightly. "But you have to."

He pulled away from me and held me at arm's length with his hands on my shoulders. "But I tell you what, if you're a good girl for testing today, I take you down to the kennels afterward. I heard one of the girls just had a litter of puppies."

I sniffed and wiped the tears from my eyes. "Promise?" I asked quietly. I loved visiting the kennels. The dogs there were lab subjects just like me but I loved playing with them, even though I was rarely allowed to go down there.

George smiled. "I promise," he said.

After a few moments, I nodded and George stood up, reaching out a hand for me. I took it slowly and he began to lead the way down the hall.

As we walked we passed quite a few other scientists, each wearing a white lab coat. Some of them stood talking to each other, some hurriedly walked down the hall going this way and that. As we passed them, many of them would look up and nod at George or say a quick 'good morning' but none of them even glanced at me. To the many researchers and scientists around me, I was nothing but a research animal, no different from the rats and mice they kept in cages. Thinking back on it, I think that maybe they treated me like that because, if they saw me as an actual person, they wouldn't have the stomach to do what they did to me.

Only George and Raymond ever even called me by my name. To everyone else around I wasn't Eve, I was Subject 42. Once, I asked Raymond why I was Subject 42 and not Subject 1 and he had laughed.

"Because you're the forty-second experimental subject so far and the only one to actually survive longer than a year," he had told me with a smile on his face that was anything but kind.

And so, George led me down the hall, my bare feet pattering softly on the tile floor as we walked. With every step we took, I felt my heart growing heavier and heavier until we finally stopped outside of a set of double doors. I swallowed hard as I looked at it, my heart beat fast as I tried to keep from panicking at the thought of what might be behind those doors.

George lightly squeezed my hand and smiled down at me. "You ready?" He asked.

"No," I said softly but George only gave my hand another reassuring squeeze before he pushed open the doors.

The room inside was large and shaped like a wedge of a circle. In an arch along the far wall, raised four or five feet off of the ground, were several rows of theater like seating filled with people in lab coats.

The room angled in towards the double doors. The wall to the left was covered in various screens in monitors and I could see the words

Subject #42  
(Evangeline Hilliard)

Printed on the screens in several places. Large moveable lights hung down from the ceiling over a single metal examination table. Crowded behind the table were about a dozen more people in lab coats of varying ages, each one holding a clipboard. They were chatting amongst themselves when we first walked in but when the doors shut behind us with a slam, the entire room fell silent and all eyes turned towards us.

There was movement in the silent crowd as Raymond pushed his way to the front and addressed George with a large smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He was rather young, probably in his mid-thirties with short black hair that was slicked back. His jawline was sharp and angular and his dark brown eyes were anything but kind. He, like everyone else in the room, wore a white lab coat with a name tag pinned to his front pocket that read, 'Raymond Barnes' along with a photograph of him. He kept the top few buttons undone and I could see his stark white shirt and black tie underneath it.

"Ah, there he is," Raymond said walking over to us and patting George on the shoulder. "I'm glad to see you managed to fetch the test subject without any serious injuries." There was a soft round of laughter from the crowd at his words. No doubt they all knew what I had done to the two men earlier.

George didn't smile back. "You know if you treated her better we wouldn't have to send so many interns to the infirmary."

Raymond laughed. "Ah, but you see that's why you are here!" he said cheerily.

He turned to face me his smile instantly fading. "Let's go, Eve. I think you've kept us waiting long enough," he said and turned sound again to address the crowd. George knelt down in front of me again with a smile. "Now remember what I told you and don't worry, I'll be nearby the whole time," he said softly before standing up again and walking back to near one of the walls.

I took a deep shaky breath and started walking toward the metal examining table.

"As I'm sure most of you already know, today we will be testing the effects of the newly developed serum ISH 12 on subject number 42," Raymond said in a loud voice so that everyone in the crowd could hear his words. "Miss Mitchell, if you may do the honors of prepping the test subject."

I froze, with my hands reaching up to touch the cold metal of the table when I heard him say the word 'serum'. _'Not that," _I thought. _"Anything but that."_

My mind flashed back to the last time they had tested an experimental serum on me. It had been called serum IES 21 and they had injected it right into my eyes. It had been excruciatingly painful and had left me blind for almost two weeks. Just when everyone had given up and claimed it as a failure, I had begun to be able to see again, only then, everything was sharper and clearer. I could see things from twenty feet away as if they were right in front of my face and every little movement had caught my eye. Raymond had been rather pleased after that. He had told me, with a smile on his face, that he had been just about to give the order to have me disposed of as a failure and that if I hadn't have regained my sight when I did, there would have been a new subject 43 to replace me.

I was gripping the edge of the metal table so hard my knuckles were turning white when I suddenly felt myself being lifted up onto it.

"Up we go," a voice murmured in my ear, and George was there giving me a smile that looked more like a grimace. He quickly pulled away again after I was sitting on the table.

A woman, Sylvia Mitchell according to the name tag pinned to her lab coat, with brown hair tied up in a ponytail stepped forward, leading a cart with several pieces of equipment on it. Raymond was saying something more to the crowd but I wasn't listening to him. My attention was focused on the woman with the cart and on trying not to panic at the thought of what I knew was going to happen. She first attached a multitude of wires to my wrists, ankles, and temples. When she had finished several new screens lit up on the wall of monitors displaying my heart rate and brain wave patterns. Then she attached a cuff around my arm and took my blood pressure typing it onto a portable monitor on her cart so it appeared up on the large screen as well. Immediately people in white lab coats began to frantically scribble on their clipboards. The whole time that she worked she never once spoke a word to me or even looked me in the eye.

The next thing I knew Raymond was standing next to me again, a smile on his face that was anything but kind. "We'll deal with your punishment later," he said in a voice only I would be able to hear, never dropping his smile. He pat me lightly on the head and then Miss Mitchell was next to me, holding a syringe containing a green liquid.

"And without further ado, let the experiment begin," Raymond said loudly to the crowd. Miss Michelle swabbed my arm with an alcohol wipe. On the monitors, the fact that my heart started to beat faster was clearly visible and several of the scientists in the room began to scribble on their clipboards again.

I couldn't bring myself to look at the needle anymore so I turned my head away just as a felt the pinch of the needle entering my arm. Then, what felt like liquid fire was injected into my veins. I tried to grit my teeth against it but each pump of my heart spread the fire across my body until it completely consumed my mind and I lost my fight against it. I began to loose control of my body, as it began to convulse. My eyes rolled back in my head and I could no longer see what was around me clearly. An alarm somewhere started to go off and I could suddenly hear shouts as people started to swarm over me, distant shadows and blobs above me as my eyes rolled around without my control. My arms lashed out and heard the snap of bones breaking as they connected with the flesh of one of the people over me. Then my hand lashed out at the metal table and I faintly registered the sound of screeching metal, and still the pain grew worse and worse.

_"I'm going to die," _I thought, just as my vision began to cloud in at the edges. The last thing I remember seeing was George's face hovering above mine, his lips moving as he shouted something at me I couldn't hear before everything went black and I slipped away into nothingness.


	4. Chapter 4

I ran through the city, the strength in my legs carrying me faster than any normal human could ever run. The city flew by, but my eyes caught every detail, every building, every piece of trash on the road, every single shocked face that I passed.

I didn't even know where I was running, I just ran. Trying to escape the memories that had clawed their way back to the surface at the sight of Carl's face just before my bullet had hit his shoulder.

Another memory flashed through my mind, a memory of blood, of pain and Him. He was there again, staring down at me with that same smile. I felt my body jerk as if the memory had hit me with a physical blow. My feet stumbled and I almost fell but I managed to scramble, catching myself at the last moment. But even though I managed to stay on my feet, my body continued to jerk and start to shake.

_'No no no, not now' _I thought desperately, but I knew that there was no controlling it. My vision was starting to blur and I just managed to stumble into an alleyway before my legs buckled under me and I completely lost control of my body and my mind.

I lost all sense of time and was only faintly aware of my body as my mind was overcome with flashes memories and images.

I was being tied down to a metal table as a man stuck a strip of leather in my mouth and in the next moment I was snapping that man's neck. Then I was being sliced open again and again by a woman with a scalpel, my body healing just as fast as I was cut. I could feel the pain again, I could feel each time my skin was sliced open. In the next moment, I was standing over the woman, slicing a blade across her throat. Over and over again, the memories flashed through my mind, making me relive all the pain, all the agony as my body convulsed uncontrollably. Somewhere I could hear the sound of screaming though I didn't know if it was me or my memories that the screaming came from. Eventually, the pain became too great and everything went dark.

I didn't know how much time had passed by the time I next opened my eyes. It was still dark around me so it couldn't have been too long. My body felt weak and my hands stung. When I looked down at them I could see that they were covered in gashes that were closing even as I watched until eventually, they were nothing more than faint pink lines underneath the blood on my skin.

The taste of copper filled my mouth and I knew I must have bitten my tongue at some point, though it too was healing quickly, the pain fading. I was covered in dirt from the floor of the alley and around me. There were large parts of the concrete floor and the wall of the building next to me that were smashed into rubble and dust in some places and looked like someone had gouged out the stone like putty in others.

Slowly, I sat up, my body still shaking slightly, as I leaned my shoulder against the wall and drew my knees to my chest. I fought the tears that were pricking at the corners of my eyes. I was prone to seizures, another result of the experiments that were done on my body but the lab had always given me medicine to treat them. After I had escaped, I started having seizures again after only a couple of months. They forced me to relive memories and pain again and again. Some had been worse than others. Each time they happened, I completely lost control. I was fortunate that they had only happened in places where the damage my strengthened muscles caused wasn't too great. A few smashed walls and broken floors but nothing too damaging.

I felt weak, every muscle in my body was sore. Usually, after a seizure, it took a few hours for me to fully recover but I didn't have that kind of time. Sylvia was so close I could almost feel it. If I didn't go after her now, I didn't know when I would get another chance.

Slowly, I struggled to my feet swaying slightly as I fought to regain the control I had over my body. I took a step forward and one of my legs gave way under my weight, threatening to send me tumbling back to the concrete but I managed to grab onto the wall for support. A large shard of glass stuck out from the meat of my thigh, sharp and jagged. When I looked around I could see similar looking pieces strewn around near an empty metal frame. A mirror. It lay in a thousand pieces around me, only a few of them faced up to reflect my image.

I grabbed onto the large shard in my leg, the edges of it cut into my palm but I hardly noticed. I yanked the piece out with a white hot flash of pain, but as soon as it had come, it was gone, the trickle of blood from the wound was slowing and the gash was closing itself up.

The shard of mirror I held was large, almost as long as my hand and it came to a jagged point. The reflective surface was red with blood and I used my thumb to wipe some of it away to gaze at my reflection. The woman I saw looking back at me seemed like a stranger. Her eyes were hollow, and gaunt, clearly haunted by her past. Smudges of dirt and blood covered her face. Her hood had fallen back to reveal her white hair, which shone like a beacon in the dim moonlight. I wiped away the grime on my face the best I could, pulled my hood back up over my hair, and reached down to pull up my mask so that only a small amount of forehead and those tortured eyes remained visible on the woman in the mirror fragment. I would have to mend my clothes later as the leather and fabric now had several new holes in their surfaces. Finally, I tossed the shard away and it shattered on the wall of the alley, joining its sibling on the ground. I rolled out my shoulders to try and chase out some of the soreness, and once again started out into the night, heading straight for Hase Street.

My strength seemed to come back to me as I traveled through the city, keeping to the back alleys and staying in the shadows as much as I possibly could. I knew I had blood on me. If someone saw me like that, it would cause troubles that I didn't have time for. So I tried to draw as little attention to myself as I could as I moved through roads and buildings.

Hase Street was a short, quiet little street near the edge of the city. There were only three houses on it, each one large and very expensive and each of them were quite a ways away from each other. It wasn't difficult to find the house I wanted, with all the guards that were posted around it.

The house itself sat at the very end of the road, the pavement transitioning into a cobblestone driveway that lead all the way up to the front steps in a culdesac around a fountain. All around the place were trees and forest land so there was no shortage of places and paths for me to slip closer to the house undetected.

The property was surrounded by decorative iron fencing, at least ten feet tall, with large brick pillars periodically spread across the length. Barbed wire had been hastily wrapped around the tops of the whole fencing clearly to try to keep something from climbing over them. Floodlights lit the front of the building. The mansion was large, at least twenty rooms from just a glance, and made of a light red brick. It was elaborately decorated and seemed to be modeled off of an old victorian style. It was three stories high with a low red, tiled roof and attic windows topped with decorative pillar-like structures jutting out. A balcony adorned one of the right side second story windows and continued down to create a small circular-like addition to the first floor of the mansion. Stone steps led up to to a pair of large, intricately carved oak doors with black iron fittings. Lamp posts sat on either side of the steps, brightly lit in the dark night. Lavish garden beds surrounded the house and an old weeping willow sat off to the left, it's limbs drooping down to touch the grass.

Two guards stood on either side of the steps leading up to the front door and a single guard stood in front of the gate leading into the property. A fourth guard paced back and forth from one side of the fence to the other leading a large german shepherd on a leash. Each guard wore a set of body armor, tan pants, and black shirts and carried large machine guns. They almost looked like soldiers but I recognized the outfits and guns from the lab. At a glance, they looked fierce and no-nonsense, but I could easily see, even from a far distance that they weren't as well disciplined as they seemed.

The two guards that flanked the doors were both on high alert, standing at attention and scanning the surroundings, however, the guard on the left kept shifting his weight to his left leg as if his right leg was bothering him. The guard at the front of the gate was actually leaning back against it and appeared to be fighting off sleep. Every once and a while his head would drop ever so slightly forward before he jerked it back up to attention. The one walking the dog didn't seem happy to be doing so and kept jerking on the leash any time the dog fell slightly behind.

The lab hadn't exactly sent their best men to protect Sylvia wich was lucky for me, and very unlucky for her. I'd be able to sneak past the guards easily and slip inside to deal with Sylvia without too much effort.

I quickly moved through the trees until I was close to the fence on the right side of the mansion. Climbing up into the branches of one of them, I stopped. It would be easy to simply drop to the other side of the fence and make my way into the building but I knew that the dog would be able to smell me and would alert the guards. So, I waited until the guard and his dog were right below me before I pursed my lips and let out a whistle that was too high pitch for the anyone but the dog to hear. Almost immediately the dog stopped, it's ears pricked straight up as it tried to find the source of the noise. The guard continued walking, unaware of the dog's behavior. When the leash went taught he pulled his hand to yank on the leash again but I never let him finish the movement. I dropped silently to the ground behind the guard and wrapped my arms around his neck, cutting off his airway.

The guard thrashed in my arms trying to claw at my face and arms but his strength was like a kitten's compared to mine and after a while, his struggling slowed and he went limp, unconscious. I had no intention of killing any of the guards that night. The only person who was to die at my hands was Sylvia Mitchells. I didn't want people thinking I was just killing anyone I felt like.

During the time I had my arms wrapped around the guard's throat, the dog hadn't moved an inch. He stood there, his ears pressed back against his head and his lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl. Now that I had gotten a better look I realized that I knew the dog. He had been a puppy of one of the female dogs I had named 'Gwen' at the lab many years ago.

I slowly turned so that I was facing him, keeping my head slightly bowed so I didn't appear to be threatening him. "Easy boy, it's me. Remember?" I said in a low voice, slowly reaching out my hand to him. Caution in his eyes, he took a slow step forward and sniffed my hand, and I knew he recognized my scent. His lips fell back over his teeth and his tail began to wag slightly as he began to lick my hand.

I smiled and moved forward to stroke his head and neck, running my fingers along his fur. The whole time he kept wagging his tail. "You're free now, boy. Run away and don't ever let them catch you again," I told him softly. I knew he would understand me after all he wasn't a normal dog just like I wasn't a normal human. I let my hand drop from his head and he turned and ran off into the trees without looking back.

The smile fell from my face as he disappeared. I turned back to the unconscious guard on the ground, easily picking him up with one arm and tossing him into the underbrush, out of sight. With that done I climbed back into the tree, slowly making my way to the end of the branch before dropping down on the other side of the fence.

As soon as my feet hit the ground I dropped into a crouch. Barely daring to breathe as I scanned my surroundings. It didn't look like there were any other guards posted outside, aside from the three remaining at the front of the building. Everything almost seemed too easy.

Slowly and cautiously I made my way across the lawn until I could press myself against the brick wall of the mansion. The windows of the first floor were large and about five feet off of the ground. Above me was a small balcony on the back window of the second floor. The room it lead into was dark. I moved back a few steps, glanced around to make sure there was no one who would see me and jumped. The enhanced muscles in my legs easily gave me the height I needed and I managed to snag the railing of the balcony with my hands. My body swung free for a few moments before I pulled myself safely onto the balcony.

The door leading to the balcony was simple and wooden, compared to the front doors with a small set of glass windows towards the top and an intricate black metal doorknob. I slowly turned the knob only mildly surprised to find the door unlocked. From what I had seen so far, it didn't really seem like anyone had taken the highest measures towards security.

The room on the other side was large and empty with hardwood floors and white walls with elaborate trim and molding around the top and bottom of the room. A large fireplace sat on the other side of the room. Above the fireplace was a large empty picture frame that had probably once held a painting of some wealthy man or woman.

The door leading out of the room was a deep chestnut color and much more intricately carved than the door to the balcony. Unlike the door to the balcony, however, it was locked. I grabbed the cool metal of the handle in my hand and twisted it with force. There was a soft cracking sound and the door swung open.

The hallway on the other side was dark, lit only by the light coming up from the stairs at the end. It was clear even from the hallway that no one used the second floor to the mansion anymore. A long, elaborate rug stretched down the length of the hardwood floor but it was covered by a thin layer of dust. Even as the scent of dust and stagnant air filled my nose, another scent reached my nostrils. It was sickly sweet and familiar in a way that made my stomach churn. Sylvia.

I didn't hesitate as I made my way down the hallway, passing doors to rooms that probably hadn't been open in years. At the end of the hallway, a short set of polished redwood stairs led down to a small landing before turning and leading down to the first floor. I walked down the stairs slowly, stepping carefully, all of my senses on high alert.

The stairs led down to a brightly lit entrance room, wide and open with only a few pieces of furniture to decorate it. I followed Sylvia's scent moving cautiously until I reached a small hallway. Another, unfamiliar scent hit me and I stopped, there was someone else nearby. I pressed by back against the corner leading to the hallway and slowly peered around the wall. The hallway was long empty, the only door to be seen was at the very end, and it was shut tight. Another guard paced back and forth from the door looking extremely bored. His gun on his back instead of in his hands.

There didn't appear to be any other guards withing eyesight so when the guard started walking back towards the closed door I quickly pushed off from the wall and ran up behind him, wrapping my arms around his neck like I had done with the other guard. This one, however, put up much more of a fight. Instead of desperately clawing at me he grabbed a knife he had at his belt and began to swing it at me desperately trying to make me let go. I hissed in pain as the blade cut into my skin but I didn't loosen my grip on his windpipe. He began to slow and weaken as the seconds passed but he managed to drive the blade of his knife into my shoulder before he went unconscious. I released him and his body crumpled to the ground as I staggered back cursing silently.

I grabbed onto the handle of the knife and ripped it out of my arm with a flash of pain but it didn't last long as the wound started to close. I let the blade drop from my hands and clatter on the hardwood floor, trailing my blood as it rolled away. Sylvia's scent was strong, coming from the closed door at the end of the hall. I stepped over the unconscious guard and walked the last few steps to it. Slowly, I turned the door handle and pulled it open, ready to face whatever I would find on the other side.

The room inside was large and went up the full two stories of the mansion. Redoak bookshelves covered almost all of the walls, filled to the brim with books and piles of books littered the room. A short, black iron spiral staircase sat in the back corner, leading up to another level of bookshelves. A crystal chandelier hung down from the middle of the ceiling.

A large white fireplace sat directly across from me, crackling with the song of fire. A tall-backed, red velvet chair sat in front of it, it's back to me in a way that kept me from seeing who might be sitting in it. Next to it was a small end table with a small stack of books on it and a blue patterned lamp.

There didn't seem to be anyone else in the room. Slowly, I began to walk towards the chair, my hand reaching down to rest on the handle of the knife at my belt.

"I know you're there," a voice spoke up from the chair "You might as well stop trying to hide from me". I froze, my blood turning to ice in my veins. The voice was low, and rich, and painfully familiar.

"How did you know?" I asked her, straightening up. There was no need for me to try to deny that I was there. She would meet the same fate whether she knew I was coming or not. I started walking towards the chair again but with confidence instead of caution.

"I watched as all of my co-workers were murdered one by one in the years after you escaped. It wasn't hard to figure out."

Finally, I was close enough to the chair to see the person who resided in it.

The woman sitting there was a sorry excuse of the woman I had once known. She looked thin and gaunt, dark circles sat under her eyes. The roots of her once silky brown hair were turning gray. She looked pitiful and devoid of hope but I felt absolutely nothing for her.

She looked at me with a completely void expression, a fake smile pulling the side of her mouth up. "Hello Subject 42, it's been quite a while."

I gave her a cold nod, pulling down my hood and lowering my mask. "It has,"

The smile fell from her lips. "I suppose you're here to kill me, correct?"

"I'm here to make sure you pay for what you did to me," I told her flatly.

For a while, she didn't say anything back. She looked at me, her eyes blinking slowly until she sighed, letting her lean back against the chair. Her face angled away but she kept her eyes on me.

"You were always rather strong-headed. Subject 42, Evangeline Hilliard. I don't know why Raymond chose to name you at all. I think he thought of you as his little pet, he was quite fond of you, you know." She shook her head. "You were supposed to help the world in so many ways, ways you can't even imagine."

"I didn't want to help the world," I snapped at her, unable to keep the anger from my voice any longer. "Do you have any idea what I went through in that hell hole? All those tests, all those experiments every single day for 20 years? How the hell could you do what you did to another human?"

Sylvia let out a dry laugh lifting her head back up to look straight at me. "A human? You aren't human, Eve," she said. "You may share our DNA, but I was there when they started growing you in that petri dish. You were born from a tank. I watched you floating in there for four months before you were big enough for then to take you out. "You're not human, you're not even a person. You're nothing but a genetically grown specimen created in a lab."

Her words cut into me. I balled my hands into fists at my side before taking a slow deep breath and letting them relax at my sides. Calmly, I grabbed my knife from my belt and flipped it open. Sylvia's eyes instantly locked onto the blade.

I played with the knife in my hands, twirling it between my fingers and tossing it from hand to hand. Sylvia never tore her eyes from it and I could see the fear in her eyes. The sight of it sent a thrill of excitement through me. At that moment I was the one in control, which was something I had never had at the lab.

"You're right. And I can do things no human could ever do." Quick as a flash, I brought my hand up and ran my blade over my palm, watching at blood began to drip onto the floor and feeling as the wound started to close. When it had fully healed I open and closed my fist a few times before letting my hand drop back down to my side. I flipped my knife closed again and Sylvia's body physically sagged in relief. I couldn't help but smile slightly as I watched her. "It's why everyone else is dead and I'm not. And do you want to know the best part of it all? In a way, you brought all of this upon yourselves. After all, you're the ones who made me this way."

"Is that why you've killed so many innocent people? Because you think they 'brought it on themselves?"

I laughed, kneeling down in front of Sylvia so that I was face to face with her. She flinched back from me. "Innocent? Haven't you heard anything I just told you? None of them were innocent, including yourself."

Sylvia smiled, some of her courage returning, "Is that what you've told yourself all this time? Oh, Eve, I've seen your brain scans, I thought you would have been smarter than that. What do you plan to do after I'm dead? You'll never be able to get close to Raymond and he's already started to rebuild what you've destroyed, hiring new staff and remaking the lab to be bigger and better. You can run around playing this 'angsty hero' all you like but at the end of the day what purpose does it serve? You'll never be able to stop what's happening."

I gave her a very wide smile and flipped open my knife again, bringing it up and driving it into Sylvia's chest, so quickly she never even saw it coming. Sylvia's eyes grew wide as she looked down at the blade protruding from her chest, red blood seeping out from its blade. Her mouth gaped open and closed as she tried so form words but nothing came out.

I leaned forward so that I could whisper softly in her ear, "And that's where yo_u're_ wrong, I will find Raymond and I will make sure that that lab will never be able to hurt anyone ever again."

I leaned back again. Sylvia coughed once, red spraying from her lips and trailing down her chin before her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped back in the chair, her breathing stopped completely.

I stood up and grabbed the handle of my knife and pulled it from her chest with a sharp tug. Sylvia's body jerked from the motion but she was still after that, never more would should pauge the world with her life.

I wiped her blood off of my blade on the fabric of her pants and turned without another glance heading back out of the mansion and into the night.


End file.
